The last few days, I have been feeling plagued by this feeling of not being “enough.” Not a “good enough” daughter, a “good enough” sister, “a good enough” wife, a “good enough” person, a “good enough” athlete. This got me to thinking about where this was coming from. What is going on with me?

Sigh. This again?

Let me begin by speaking about an interesting self-observation. I’ve always loved experimental science. My bachelors degree was in Biology (pre-med route). I loved that it possessed an element of certainty. If I mix these chemicals, in these precisely measured amounts, chances are that I will always attain the same reaction, again and again and again. Always. There is that dreaded word again.

This year, especially, life has been weaving a thread of sub-optimality within me . It has redundantly challenged my “all-or-nothing” cognitive distortions. Repetitively, I have found myself having to wrestle with the “gray areas.” Though unbelievably arduous, the rewards I’ve started to reap are priceless. The presence of “grays” has allowed me to cultivate gentle compassion for the wide array of human paradoxes. To be human is to be in a persisting battle of internal and external contradictions. “I want to be different, but I am so invested in fitting in.” “I want to be able to feel good about myself in any shape, and form, but I MUST be pretty, fit, and barbie-like.” “I want to stand up for myself, but I don’t want to stir up any conflict.” Do you see the double-binds?

One of the closest relationships I’ve had was the epitome of this paradoxical relationship (I’m going to keep them disclosed, for the purposes of this blog). I think that’s where a lot of my fear of not “being good enough” comes from. This relationship had dynamics that were quite odd and contradictory. Love was offered in a very conditional manner. After being exposed to it, I, inaccurately, learned that I must be a certain way, to be loved, to be worthy– to be good enough.

The preceding reason is why I think my struggle with “all or nothing” thinking was exacerbated. I’m was either the best at something, or I didn’t want to try it at all. My school assignments were either 45 pages long, or they were the bare minimum. At it’s very basis, this thought process is reminiscent of the “fight or flight” survival response. If I interpret a situation as a “challenge”  I’ll either run towards it fearlessly, prepared to tackle it at any cost. Or…I won’t even try. I’ll give up, retreat, and hide.

And for some reason, retreating, hiding, and being afraid have become synchronized with feelings of shame, and unworthiness. If I am afraid, I am weak. And if I am weak, then I am flawed. And if I am flawed, then I am surely unworthy of love.

It’s reasonable to say that the last few years have forced me to, dare I say, START to accept–actually, more like tolerate, the imperfections, mistakes and incongruities within myself. I’m starting to comprehend that, maybe, I don’t have to expend an exhausting amount of energy to try to “mask” or hide my imperfections. So if I’m not hiding, and shaming myself into a self-loathing whirlpool, what do I do instead? I breathe.

In fact, I’ve found that most of my work lies in acceptance. It lies in cultivating acceptance for the fact that there will always, to some extent, be opposing forces present within me. Consider the age-old “good vs bad” battle that is so inherent to human existence. It’s served as a theme in movies, book plots, and even in religions. Monotheistic religions agree that there are two predominant forces acting upon us; there is a righteous force: “God” and also a tempting, misleading force: “Satan.” Human suffering, therefore, becomes a result of consistently trying to reconcile these two oppositions within ourselves.

Acceptance for the “good” and “bad” parts of me have granted me permission to invite and feel the entirety of my experience. In an earlier blog, I wrote about how Carl Rogers, an esteemed idol, said that one of the indicators of true growth is that individuals begin to own and accept their experience. It begins with “owning”, which slowly turns into “trusting”. I would like to think that, so far, I have become AWARE of my contradictions, began to vocalize them, and am starting to tolerate them. I’m hoping that trust in my own experience will be a friend that I will soon encounter, as I continue progressing upon this journey.

Another important discovery I’ve made is ALSO contrary to my prior conceptions. I’ve found, through direct experiencing, that sharing your vulnerability with another selected human being–and I mean, actually sharing the entirety of your story with them, creates MORE autonomy and trust in oneself. I had been absolutely frightened, for so long because I thought that sharing and letting people “see” me would result in me being rejected, abandoned, and isolated. But that didn’t happen.

Instead, I found safety. I landed on the softest cloud after taking a fearful “emotional skydive.” I not only found acceptance, friendship and connection with another being, but I also gained greater trust in myself. How? Because in those fearful moments, I was able to recognize what I truly needed, and therefore, I was able to “give” it to myself. I was capable of identifying that my hunger was for connection–for love and for friendship. By sharing my story, I actively chose to provide those things for me.

I truly believe that each and every human being possesses all the necessary tools to attain the answers to our own troubles. We have enough strength, insight and fortitude to resolve conflicts by ourselves. By the same token, we also have enough wisdom and clarity to recognize when seeking refuge in the kind companionship of another will help alleviate our burdens.

This brings me to one of the most important lessons that I am learning: it is our responsibility, and ours alone, to take time to BUILD a relationship with ourselves. We need to sit down and calmly listen to ourselves so that we can properly identify what we need, and, only then, ponder about the ways to get those needs fulfilled.

That is our responsibility alone. I don’t even know if it as much a responsibility, as it is a birth-given right. Even if we wish to relinquish the responsibility to take care of ourselves, we cannot. We OWN the deed to our houses. We can invite others in, enjoy their company, but the house remains ours, and ours alone. As our lives progress, we may select a roommate (a friend, a lover, a partner) whom we CHOOSE to share an intimate bond with–somebody we invite to live in our home. BUT the house will still remain ours.

And, that is a frighteningly lovely thing.

If I choose not to attend to the house, it simply becomes dirty and untaken care of. NO ONE can clean it but me. This is why we get so reactive to our partners, and our closest friends. When our own insecurities arise, we, so often, expect them to take care of it, and to make it better. We want them to “fix us.” But they cannot. That responsibility was never theirs. I’ve found that I become most volatile in my interactions with my poor husband (lol), when I am desperately searching for assurance, comfort, and compassion in a source that is NOT MYSELF. The grumpy cat version of me comes out: “How DARE you not make me feel better? Don’t you get it? That’s your job!”

But it really isn’t.

The house was never theirs.

So today, I want you to join me in accepting this birth right–accepting the ownership for our house. I own and claim this realization. I know that I have to make time to rebuild and maintain a relationship with my everchanging self. I have to trust my heart, my mind, my body and my soul. I have to trust that together, we are enough. I have to make time to attend to myself, provide myself with the necessary reassurance, positivity and love. If I feel I cannot do that, I will not abandon myself. Because, I know that even in those moments, I can still generate acceptance. I will, simply, accept that it may be hard for me to accept certain circumstances and, feelings. I am not going to walk away from me, because I know that I already possess  everything that I need to live a wholehearted and fulfilling life.

“The most important voice we need to trust in any relationship is our own. We need to trust ourselves to perceive and process information. We owe ourselves honesty, rather than comfort with false fantasies. And only then, can we assume responsibility to speak up, and insist on fair treatment and respect for ourselves. Clarity of voice comes from inner conviction about oneself. It comes from deeply held values about self-respect. Remember that to be heard, you may need to lower the volume and intensity, rather than raise it.” –Harriet Lerner.

 

PS: I ❤ you!